


The Truth About Sherlock

by bookaddled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Rimming, basically pure porn, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookaddled/pseuds/bookaddled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a cock slut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth About Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astudyinrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinrose/gifts).



> Again, for my wonderful Amanda, for her birthday! I didn't get you a shirt that says "Sherlock is a cock slut", so I wrote you a fic instead.

Sherlock, apparently, was a cock slut.

Ever since they had _finally_ stopped being idiots and gotten together, Sherlock had been insatiable for John’s cock. There were sly brushing of fingers against his crotch in public-- especially at crime scenes-- and quick and covert handjobs in the backs of cabs. There would be times in the middle of a case where Sherlock would give him a look, and shortly after he would find himself pressed up against a wall in an alley or a broom cupboard at Bart’s, Sherlock on his knees giving him a sloppy and fantastic blowjob. Even in the quiet of 221B when there had been no cases for days and they were simply enjoying the domesticity of their flat, John would be sitting in his chair reading or typing up a blog post and suddenly Sherlock would be right in front of him, frantically pulling down his trousers, eager to get John’s cock in his mouth.

Then there was when John got Sherlock into bed. Sherlock would fall to pieces beneath him, quivering and keening with desperate need, begging for John be inside him, fill him up, fuck him hard.

He had never had another lover who was so desperate for his cock before. As much as it filled him with delicious pride, it also sometimes made him wonder if Sherlock was more in love with his cock than with him. Either way, John didn’t really care, and was always more than happy to give Sherlock exactly what he needed.

Which was why, when they had finished a particularly gruelling case they had been working night and day for days, John saw the success and heat in Sherlock’s eyes and knew he would not be getting any rest any time soon.

On the cab ride home, the tension between them was palpable, even though they were both looking out their respective windows. John could feel Sherlock vibrating with desire like a plucked violin string, and his cock was hardening in response. He shifted in his seat in order to rearrange his erection into a slightly more comfortable position, and after settling, felt long, sure fingers tracing the outline of the bulge in his pants. He looked up to find Sherlock watching him, pupils blown and face flushed. He prayed that that got home quickly, as he was in danger of jumping on top of Sherlock right there in the back of the cab.

Thankfully, just then they pulled up at Baker Street, and both scrambled out of the cab, Sherlock quickly paying the cabbie as John went to open the door. Just as he was getting his keys in the door, Sherlock pressed up against him, and he could feel Sherlock’s erection against the small of his back. He moaned, and fumbled to get the door open, pulling Sherlock in and pressing him up against the door once it was closed. He pulled Sherlock down and kissed him fiercely, tongue plunging into his mouth, before he pulled back and hissed, “Upstairs.”

Sherlock smiled, that devilish smile he had when he came up with a particularly clever idea, and pushed John up the stairs and into their flat through the door that led to the kitchen. John thought that they were going straight to their bedroom, but Sherlock turned him around and pressed him up against the kitchen table, rattling the glassware and beakers on it. He swooped down to give John a passionate and desperate kiss that left John dizzy before dropping to his knees and burying his face in John’s crotch.

He moaned into the fabric, clutching at John’s hips and rubbing his face into the fabric of John’s jeans. He inhaled deeply and pulled back, franticly unbuttoning and unzipping John’s jeans.

“I have been wanting to do this for _days_ ,” Sherlock growled, yanking John’s jeans and pants to his knees. He sat back and admired John’s cock standing proudly before him. Without warning, he leaned forward and swallowed John down, causing John to buck his hips in surprise.

“Oh god,” he moaned, winding his fingers into those beautiful curls and watching as Sherlock worshipped his cock. Sherlock grabbed the base, pulling off his cock to lick up the underside, sucking on the head for a bit before taking in all of John again. John cursed as Sherlock began sucking him in earnest, hands scrabbling at the table behind him to keep him upright as his hips rocked him into Sherlock’s mouth.

When he felt himself getting close, he tugged on Sherlock’s curls and pulled him off of his cock. “God, your mouth is gorgeous,” he sighed, pulling Sherlock up to his feet and kissing him deeply. He could taste his pre-come on Sherlock’s tongue, making him dizzy with need. He reached out and grabbed Sherlock’s hand, and pulled him down the hall to their bedroom, moving awkwardly as his jeans were still around his knees.

As soon as they were in their room, they both made quick work of their clothes and came back together, completely naked and completely hard, kissing each other with a desperation that was getting more and more frantic the longer the kiss went on.

Finally, John pulled back, and ordered Sherlock, “On the bed, on your knees.”

Sherlock practically jumped into bed, scrambling onto his hands and knees as fast as he could, thrusting his ass into the air and wiggling it at John. John marvelled at the sight before him before crawling into bed behind Sherlock. He ran his hand down Sherlock’s spine, watching him shiver beneath his fingers, before slowly kissing down his back.

When John reached the top of Sherlock’s crack, he sat back and admired the luscious arse before him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. Sherlock gave his arse another encouraging wiggle, causing John to chuckle and smack one of Sherlock’s cheeks. “Patience!”

Sherlock growled and buried his head in his forearms.

John went back to appreciating Sherlock’s arse, his cock hardening even more at the red handprint that now stood out against the pale flesh. He caressed the perfect arse before him, then spread Sherlock’s cheeks. He blew air over the tight pink hole and smiled to himself when Sherlock began to moan. If Sherlock’s favourite thing was John’s cock, John’s favourite thing was taking Sherlock apart bit by bit.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue around Sherlock’s hole. He circled it a few times, Sherlock quivering beneath his tongue as his moans grew louder. Finally the tight ring of muscles relaxed slightly, and John pressed his tongue inside. Sherlock cried out and bucked back, and John caught his hips to hold him steady as he began fucking Sherlock with his tongue.

“Oh god, John,” Sherlock moaned, desire driving his voice down into that octave that went straight to John’s cock.

John loved this, loved making Sherlock fall to pieces with just his tongue, loved how needy he could make Sherlock, loved that there was something filthy and taboo about having his tongue up Sherlock’s anus. He swirled his tongue around inside Sherlock, trying to open him up and much as he could.

“John, I need… I need…” Sherlock was barely able to speak around his ragged breaths.

John pulled back and kissed Sherlock’s arse. “What do you need, love?”

Sherlock took a ragged breath. “You. I need you, your cock, inside me. Now.”

“Shh. Okay, love.”

John reached for their bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube that they kept there. Unsnapping the cap, he poured some on his hand, slicking up his leaking cock and his fingers. With two fingers, he pressed into Sherlock, scissoring a bit before twisting his fingers to find Sherlock’s prostate. Sherlock cried out, nearly collapsing onto the bed. John took pity, adding a third finger and quickly opening him up enough to take his cock, brushing against Sherlock’s prostate every now and then.

When he felt that Sherlock was prepared enough, he pulled out his fingers and Sherlock whined at the loss. “I’ve got something so much better for you,” he told Sherlock, lining up his cock and slowly pressing in. They both moaned deeply as he slid in, both so keyed up that John knew it would not take long for either of them to climax.

John held still, fighting the urge to thrust, allowing Sherlock’s body to adjust. When Sherlock growled, “Move,” John needed no further invitation and gripped Sherlock’s hips, thrusting roughly into him. Sherlock’s cries picked up and he yelled out, “Oh yes, fuck me, John! Fuck me hard!”

John lost control, slamming into Sherlock over and over again. Just when he was getting close and realized he should probably touch Sherlock, Sherlock cried out his name, louder than ever, and spasmed around John’s cock. The realization that Sherlock had come without being touched sent John over the edge, and his own orgasm was so intense, he saw stars. He collapsed to the side, still inside Sherlock, and bundled Sherlock against his chest.

When John’s heart finally slowed down and he could breathe normally again, he pulled out of Sherlock and leaned up on his elbow so that he could look at him.

“You came without being touched!”

“Obviously,” Sherlock said lazily, his eyes already starting to slide shut.

“I didn’t even know that that was possible.”

Sherlock smiled, looking up at John with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do so _love_ your cock.”

John laughed, getting out of bed to get a flannel. “Yes, I know.”

He cleaned himself up, then came back to the bedroom to clean up Sherlock, who was already half asleep. He crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over the both of them. Sherlock cuddled up close, burying his head into John’s shoulder and whispered before drifting off to sleep, “I love you more, though.”

John smiled and kissed Sherlock through his curls. “I love you, too, my little cock slut.”

****  
  
  
  



End file.
